The Man Without Fear
by Hardcore Heathen
Summary: The Captains of Soul Society have their first meeting with Zaraki Kenpachi. It goes poorly. One-shot, Complete.


Disclaimer: I don't own Bleach.

Author's Notes: I wrote this for Iron Fic (a fic challenge on TFF where you have a few hours to respond to a prompt) about almost three years ago to the day. (It was originally published July 18th of 2009). The story was inspired by the Drowning Pool song of the same name. And no, Gin does not always speak in a grammatically correct fashion.

**The Man Without Fear**

His eyes traced the five assembled shinigami without a hint of surprise. It had been bound to happen, sooner or later. Like dogs, circling and sniffing at the new hound.

It was something of a shame that the obligatory brawl for dominance had already been dealt with. As the rank had been explained to him, Captains were second only to the old man, Yamamoto.

That was a matter that could be dealt with another day.

The first one to speak had silver hair, slitted eyes and a smile that Kenpachi had no liking for. "Oooh, it's the new captain. He's a right impressive one. Took that captain's jacket right off a' the corpse – look at the bloodstains."

Deceiver. Taunter. Trickster – like the fox he so resembled. But there was a faint note of fear in his voice.

Perhaps the ritual brawls weren't over? That would be nice. He hadn't quite gotten a proper warm-up from his first fight.

A woman with short hair, except for two long, thin ponytails and a mildly revealing top with unimpressive contents opened her mouth next. "Norio was careless. He should never have allowed the _chance_ for a captain's seat to fall to an unknown ruffian. _I_," she said, stretching the word out, "Do not approve."

Self-conscious. Overcompensating by being self-important.

"It was lawful." This third man had long hair, gloves, and strange clasps in his hair. The others showed him some deference.

Quiet. Air of authority. Used to being obeyed. Callous?

The only two remaining were a man(?) with strange white face paint. His movements were…unusual. Jerky. The other was a small child who had never taken his eyes off of Kenpachi.

So these were the Captains. The most powerful people in Soul Society.

He was not impressed.

"Pbbbbbbt! You're just jealous of Ken-chan!"

Nor was Yachiru.

The woman turned her attention to the little girl. "_Who_ is that?" The emphasis on the word warped it into a "what."

He spoke for the first time, the bells in his hair tinkling with every tiny movement of his head. "My Lieutenant."

There was silence. Nobody challenged the statement. Kenpachi resumed his walk, Yachiru perched on his shoulder.

The smiling man stepped in his way. "Now now, we're just tryin' ta get ta know ya. No need to go on runnin off."

It was an obvious challenge. Kenpachi ignored it, and kept walking. Small dogs moved out of the way of the pack leader, or small dogs were stupid. And then they were small dogs that bled a lot.

The small dog gave way. Kenpachi went on.

"They're meanies," Yachiru whispered to him. Whispered being a loose term; she could be heard clearly twenty feet away.

"They're weak," he answered.

One of the spikes of his hair separated from his head, and the bell jangled loudly as it hit the ground. Kenpachi glanced over his shoulder. Mmm. The Smiler's sword could extend. Quite a distance.

"Yachiru. Off."

She pouted and complained, but he didn't listen and she obeyed anyway.

The blade began to retract. He grabbed it, then pulled. More of the sword extended. He grabbed it with his other hand and began to pull it towards him like a rope. After a moment, the blade stopped extending. So it did have a limit.

And then the Smiler was being pulled forward, straining and digging his feet into the ground all the way. When he was within arm's reach, Kenpachi stopped pulling.

"Did you have something to say to me?" he asked, voice calm. Smiler was anything but.

The woman disappeared from the group, and with a whisper-breath of moving air, was behind him. Now that was an interesting trick.

He felt a pinprick against the back of his neck.

"As a general warning, if I stab you again there, you will die. No trickery or clever tactic will save you. Now release Ichimaru-taichou."

Kenpachi laughed. "Two against one. This is a grand welcoming."

Smiler's confidence returned. "If you know the odds, then you know what you should do."

Kenpachi nodded, then threw the smiling bastard back away from him, the motion causing the still-extended sword to scythe wildly. The woman had to step out of the way, and in that time Kenpachi took a sidestep away, again putting everyone in his field of vision.

"I know exactly what to do. I'm going to let you go and get some of your friends over there. So we can have a fair fight."

The woman reacted with a flare of wounded pride, again flickering out of sight. Kenpachi had already turned to meet her thrust by the time she reappeared, and took a step forward and body checked her.

She was a little thing. He wasn't. She flew back a good fifteen feet. Landed well, but stumbled backwards a bit anyway. Probably not used to being beaten with sheer brute force.

"If you insist, I will gather data on you myself…"

Kenpachi turned to the voice. It was Painted-Face, the one who moved…differently.

All three vanished into that flicker-movement. He grinned. This was going to be hard.

Yachiru was yelling from the sidelines. "No fair, three against one! Meanies!" He tuned her out.

The woman appeared in front of him, but flickered away again before he'd begun to move. There was a dull impact against his back, and a screech of pain. He looked over his left shoulder to see Painted-Face clutching his bleeding hand in agony. The movement created a blind spot on his right side, which the woman took advantage of.

There was another pinprick sensation, and his eyes drifted down to see a small, butterfly shape blossom over the muscle in his right arm. He faintly heard the sound of feet against the stone floor of the courtyard, and whirled to face Smiler squarely. It was, of course, a feint, and the man flickered away again. Another pinprick, another butterfly, this one on his opposite arm.

Enough of this. Kenpachi drew his sword.

All three immediately stopped moving. They were frozen like deer caught in headlights, chests heaving as if they couldn't breathe.

They were not worth his time.

He hefted the massive weapon with one hand. The sword descended, and the woman's stomach spurted blood. He moved with the momentum, took a step towards Smiler, and the hilt crashed into the man's jaw. Pulped teeth and spittle-flecked blood filled the air.

In as many seconds, two captains were out of the fight.

So, he wasn't entirely surprised when a fourth joined to take their place.

"Soar across the frosted heavens! Hyorinmaru!"

The kid was faster than he looked, and before Kenpachi could avoid it, the boy had flickered forward and landed a glancing blow to his leg.

It froze.

Well. There was no getting around it; that was pretty damn cool.

He flexed the muscle and the ice shattered. There was a lingering bit of numbness, but he was fine.

He felt a slight edge of steel against his throat.

"That will be enough," came a calm, cultured voice. "Hitsugaya-kun…summon Captain Unohana to see to those two. I will deal with him."

He couldn't see the boy, but he doubted the kid was happy. He'd seemed like a self-confident type. Probably didn't like this one with the weird hair, not at all.

But, by the sounds of movement, the kid had done what he was told anyway.

"Now. We are going to wait until Captain Unohana arrives. And when she does, she will take the wounded with her. Then you will go on your way."

"And if I don't?"

"Then I will kill you."

He considered for a moment. But only a moment. "Not much of a threat."

Then he jerked his chin down, pinioning Hair's sword between his chin and chest. At the same time, he began a quick slash with his sword. As expected, Hair levered his sword out of the grasp of Kenpachi's mighty jaw and flickered away.

Kenpachi had seen the move enough to have a decent idea of where the man would show up again. When Hair flickered away again, Kenpachi merely stepped to the side, allowing a carefully aimed thrust to go wide. Oooh, that would have hit his heart. Hair wasn't kidding.

But Hair also wasn't quite fast enough. Kenpachi swung a backhanded chop at the calm, commanding man, who responded by raising his sword in a parry.

A proper parry is not designed to absorb a sword's movement, but to instead deflect it.

Still. A perfectly built paper fort provides little defense against a real cannonball.

Hair's sword was sheared in half, and Kenpachi's blade lodged solidly in his collarbone. With a grunt, he pulled it out. There was white bone and blood showing, and Hair had gone into shock.

He looked over his shoulder at Painted-Face.

Painted-Face smiled, and sheathed his sword. "Impressive. Most impressive. I've no more need to see you fight to satisfy my academic interest."

Kenpachi snorted. Coward.

"If I might ask…" Pained-Face said. "What is the power of your sword? Or at least its name?"

Kenpachi's brow furrowed. "My sword's name? Naming swords is for brats and storybooks. It's a sword. It cuts things." He turned to Yachiru. "C'mon."

She hopped back up on his shoulder, prattling on about the amazing fight. It had been substandard at best, but he didn't correct her. She was happy; he was happy.

The last words he heard from those captains for many weeks was the faint, distant voice of Painted-Face. "Yes…most impressive indeed…"


End file.
